


This time it’s not buttons

by Glendaa



Series: The HFA Conundrum [1]
Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: A bit of sex, M/M, a bit of angst, boys in love I don't know how to do tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:31:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16540760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glendaa/pseuds/Glendaa
Summary: At the 2018 Hollywood Film Awards a sad-looking Armie reunites with Tim thanks to a sexy article of clothing. Enjoy!





	This time it’s not buttons

**Author's Note:**

> If you know about the sweater with the back buttons (gosh!), you know that Tim likes to wear quirky, sexy clothing. Today I discovered that the HFA top he wore 2 day ago has no back, only strings. Ahem! This is the result of my sick mind! Hope you like it.
> 
> Pictorial evidence n. 1 - On the left side of this picture, a string/ribbon/something is dangling... Wonder how it could have become undone?! Copy and paste in your browser to see.  
> https://bit.ly/2DoBcxL
> 
> BTW The flu has got me in the past weeks, and I know I should be updating my other fic. I promise I will be good and do that now.
> 
> BTW2 English is not my first language, this is not betaed, I don't own anything... yadda yadda yadda. Love y'all!

Tonight sucks.

Glass of vodka dangling from my fingers - _God how I love my poison, fuck that stupid dar_ e - I consider the event ahead of me. Wife’s in Germany, kids with the grandparents, I have nothing to stop my train of thoughts. No one to think about except… him.

The 2018 Hollywood Film Awards will be a royal pain in the ass. I just know it. I should be happy if only because he’s there but… I know that things won’t be the same.

Since the last edition, a whole year has passed. He was all goofy smiles back then, awkward hugs that lasted forever, looking at me with that fuckable open mouth, tongue lolling out, eyes glazed like I was the most beautiful thing in the world.

_Fuck._

And now he’s become the boy-wonder/world’s hearthrob/best dressed, best hair, best everything to anyone and I feel fucking left aside. Like the scarf he forgot the last time I saw him. The last time I had him.

A useless, discarded accessory.

I know it’s silly. I’m a grown man, I knew it would happen. I should be happy for him - and in a sense I am, I truly am - awed by his charm like anyone. And proud and happy for the recognition he’s finally getting. He deserves it all. And yet…

I feel old. _Suppose I gonna dress as one_ , for once. No tuxedoes, no dark blue suits, no elegant grey slacks. No tracksuits and certainly not blessed short shorts.

_Fuck._

I feel so empty, can as well get dressed like an old bore from the 70s. I drain my vodka. Who cares, it’s just work.

_________

He sees me and he quirks his eyebrow in a clear _what the fuck are you wearing?_ look.

I cringe. He’s stunning, as usual. His hair is different - Little Women style, I guess - and he’s wearing a sharp black suit with a sparkly top. From here I can’t really see what’s going on there, is that a gold river flowing through it? Damn Harry Styles - I wish I could wring his neck right now. Like Tim needed any additional sartorial advice to make him even more fuckable. I groan at the thought of how many boys and girls have surely been hitting on him since the last time we met.

Sexiest risk taker my ass - I’m just a boring old fuck. He’s the one that should have received the award. He’s the only man in the whole world that can rock a Golden Girls’top and not look like an extra in Priscilla, Queen of the Desert.

My mouth is dry. I need another drink, but my publicist is on me before I get the chance to hit the bar.

“Looking sharp, Armie! Calvin Klein, uh? Pity you cannot wear aviator glasses in here, you’d have your fans swooning!”

_Yes, sure, whatever. Why the coddling?_

“I already spoke to Brian. Tonight please keep it professional, no embarassing hugs like you two are long lost brothers or anything like that. You have to move on from the whole CMBYN thing, you know that, right? The shippers are just waiting for you to slip up. Please don’t do that to your careers. Ok?”

“That won’t be a problem. I’ll introduce him, greet him and hand him the prize. That’s all”.

“Cool, cool”, he eyes me warily. He’s not convinced.

 

Timmy is watching me from afar. He reads me well and his brow is furrowed, like he’s trying to understand what’s going on with me. Brian is telling him to focus - I can read his lips from here - and I sigh. I don’t want him to worry. I don’t want to be a problem.

_______________

“Why the sad eyes, Arms? You ok? This is a happy occasion after all. You look like someone whose cat has died. Wait, is Archie ok? The kids? Eliz----”

“Stop”, I grit through my teeth. “Please stop”.

I just need to feel him near, to ground myself in his presence. My hand goes to the small of his back and I feel the heat radiating from his body. Touching him feels so good. Always does. Nonchalantly I slide my hand under his jacket, searching for more contact.

I freeze. My fingertips are grazing skin. Tim’s soft naked skin. _What the fuck?_

I look at him. His eyes widen, he swallows but says nothing. My brain is trying to grasp what’s going on but can’t, my blood has gone straight to my groin. Tentatively - we are in public, apparently chatting, no reason for people to get what’s going on – I touch his skin. The top he’s wearing has no back panel but there are strings criscrossing Timmy’s back.

I cannot resist - I tug at one. It almost comes undone and it’s now showing, dangling under his jacket.

_Fuck. Shouldn’t have done that. It’s not like I can now fix it._

We have to hope people won’t notice much.

Tim is shuddering now. His voice is low when he purrs “Do you like it? I thought you may…” He looks sheepish, but his lips are quirking up and there’s lust in his gaze.

I come nearer - _Thank God I’m still the taller of the two, I love overpowering him_ \- and whisper in his hair. “Back door, in 20”. He nods shyly, hand under his chin, in a way that’s so Elio-like that almost breaks me. If I don’t go out right now I’ll do something stupid that we will all regret. I say my goodbyes quickly and exit, calling for a car.

My thirst for alcohol has vanished. My grumpiness is no more.

Tim has dressed up for me and I can’t wait to have him in my arms.

_________________________

 “Really, Armie? Don’t you think we could talk a bit?” Timmy’s panting but still wants to be good, to do good.

“No”, I growl. We don’t have much time, he has a plane to take in… who cares. He’s here now.

I’ve wasted no time in having him naked and moaning under me - naked except for the damn top obviously. Who knew that Louis Vuitton, home of the chicest of the chic, could create a top that’s every bondage-fan dream come true? Blessed be Virgil Abloh, whomever you are! Yellow brick road to Oz for sure - my boy spread under me with black strings tying up his back is a fairy tale come true.

To think that I had seriously considered faking a flu to stay home but couldn’t bring myself, the idea of not seeing him too much… _Fuck._

There’s no time to shibari him properly, I have to improvise using my belt to just tie his wrists – _truly_ _hope it leaves a mark._ I want everybody to wonder what he’s been up to, appreciating that I’m the only one who truly knows.

The top is driving me crazy. The way it frames his back makes my cock twitch. I keep licking his thighs, his cheeks, biting as I go, kissing everywhere except for where he wants me to.

“Please”, he chokes out a sob. “Please”, trying to hump the mattress.

“You don’t have permission for that. Remember the rules, boy. You come when I let you”.

“You are a shitty daddy”, he breathes.

I slap his ass, hard. “You sure you want to go there? Want me to call a cab and let you fly to Boston hard and horny?”.

A whisper escapes his throat. “Please, I’ll be good. I missed you so much”.

This time it’s my turn to choke. He knows how to get to me, the little shit, but I know he’s sincere and I missed him so much. All the angst of this night, I want it to end. Now.

I run my fingers over his puckered entrance _._ He moans. I lick and suck and rub my cock on his crevice. God, I want him so much. _I love him so much._ A tear escapes and falls on his skin.

“Armie…” He’s looking at me now, seeing right through me. My sad excuse for an outfit, my coldish demeanour at the HFA... He grasps my hand with his fingers, the belt making it difficult. “You know I love you, right? Please, don’t be sad”.

How can a boy so young be so wise? He constantly amazes me.

“I know”, I answer. “I love you too. Now let me show you how much”.


End file.
